


let heart hold true

by growlery writes (growlery)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Developing Relationship, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Relationship Negotiation, proximity curse soulbond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-07-21 05:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19996333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery%20writes
Summary: The thing is, Nate and Tyson aren't soulmates, which makes it really fucking awkward when Colin Wilson gets traded to the Avs and it turns out he and Tyson are.





	let heart hold true

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skyscraperblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyscraperblue/gifts).



> thanks to g and f for betaing and encouragment ♥ title's from heart by flor.

The thing is, Nate and Tyson aren't soulmates. They're #Soulmates, sure, but Nate's still not really clear on whether that's just a long-running joke the media team's getting a lot of mileage out of or if they actually think Nate and Tyson have a soulbond.

They don't. They don't need one. They found each other themselves, and they haven't stayed together because of some unknown magical force randomly deciding they should. They chose each other, and that means something more, as far as Nate’s concerned. 

But the thing is, Nate and Tyson aren't soulmates, which makes it really fucking awkward when Colin Wilson gets traded to the Avs and it turns out he and Tyson are.

~

It happens at a team outing late in the summer. Colin’s already settling into the team, probably due to a mixture of being really easy to like and strikingly well-adjusted. That should really count against him, considering the team he’s now on, maybe especially when it comes to Tyson, but it actually just means he gets on super well with everyone. Maybe especially well with Tyson. It’s nothing particularly remarkable, until it is. 

Tyson’s attached to Colin’s side for most of the evening, figuratively and then also literally, which they discover at the end of the night when everyone left at the bar tries to go home. 

“They’re not _literally_ attached,” Kerfy is saying, “they’re not even standing next to each other, that’s not what that word _means_ -”

“Okay, _Harvard_ ,” Josty scoffs. 

“Actually,” Colin says, impressively mildly for someone who’s just been smacked with a soulbond, “ _literally_ can also mean _not literally_. It’s a contranym.”

Kerf blinks at him. Colin smiles back. Six feet away from him, Tyson laughs; it sounds kind of hysterical, which Nate thinks is completely fair. If he weren’t mostly frozen with a generous helping of coldly numb, he probably would be too. 

Nate’s standing next to Tyson. He caught Tyson when he fell to the ground gasping in pain, as approximately seven feet away from him, Colin did the same. Nate’s whole body lurched at seeing Tyson like that, and then lurched in a whole different way when he looked over and saw Gabe helping Colin to his feet. 

“Well, shit,” Tyson said heavily, and Nate very carefully let go of him. 

“Not that I don’t love talking bullshit about linguistics,” Tyson is saying now, “but we’re literally attached in the soulbond way, which I’m pretty sure is the most important one, here.”

Colin’s smile evaporates. He flicks a glance at Nate and sort of grimaces. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, but Tyson’s shaking his head before he can say anything else. 

“Literally not your fault,” he says with a brittle smile, and the urge to fold Tyson into Nate’s arms breaks through the numbness for just a second, before it’s swallowed up again. 

“It’s no one’s fault,” Gabe says, not in his captain voice but also not _not_ in his captain voice, and Nate doesn’t exactly mean to tune out as he launches into the pragmatics of the situation, but Colin’s looking at Tyson with a smile that looks almost hopeful and Nate can’t tear his gaze away. 

He tunes sharply back in when Gabe says, “Nate, are you okay with that?”

“Sure,” Nate says, because it doesn’t matter what they want him to be okay with. Nate’s not okay with anything right now. _Nate’s_ not okay right now. 

Tyson turns his head to look at him, and Nate realises it’s the first time he’s done it since the bond hit. There’s a lot in that look, and Nate tries to swallow but can’t, can’t. 

“Are you sure,” Tyson says, quiet, like he’s trying not to broadcast every single aspect of this to their nosy fucking teammates. Nate appreciates the gesture, as futile as it is. 

“Yeah,” he says, and manages to smile. “Whatever works best for you guys.”

~

It turns out what Nate agreed to was Colin staying in their guest bedroom until the bond settles. It’s not, like, ideal, but it was that or Tyson moves in with Colin for who fucking knows how long, a week, six months, the rest of their lives, and Nate’s pretty sure there’s no good option here, but just thinking about that one makes him want to hurl himself into the sun. 

The ride to Nate and Tyson’s place isn’t as awkward as it could be, considering. There’s no way they’re squeezing three hockey asses into the backseat, and Tyson goes for the front without looking at either of them. He makes conversation with their driver, because Tyson could talk to anyone, anywhere, any time, and Nate breathes a little easier with Tyson’s voice to focus on, reassuringly familiar. 

It’s awkward as fuck when they actually get there. Nate supposes there’s no way it couldn’t be.

“There’s something I need to say,” Colin says, after what feels like an hour of them all hovering in the entryway, carefully not looking at each other. 

“How about we just don’t, with the talking,” Tyson says brightly, at the same time Nate says, “Sure.”

He doesn’t look at Tyson. He can feel Tyson looking at him. Colin lets out a heavy breath. 

“It can wait,” he says, and gives them both a tired smile. 

They show Colin to the guest bedroom. Or, well, Tyson shows Colin to the guest bedroom and Nate trails behind them like he’s being pulled along by a string. He looks sort of determinedly at the floor and doesn’t feel anything at all about the easy banter between Tyson and Colin as they make up the bed. 

“Okay,” Tyson announces when they’re done, “I’m gonna go sleep for a million years,” and Nate’s startled into looking up at him. 

“Go where,” he says. “The other room’s too far away.”

Tyson’s face sort of crumples, and he says, “Oh,” very softly, and for whatever fucking reason, that makes Nate laugh. 

“You forget how distance works, bud?” he says, snickering a little still even though it’s really not that funny. Tyson scowls at him, and Colin looks between the two of them with this smile on his face, and Nate still kinda wants to hurl himself into the sun but the urge isn’t quite so pressing any more. 

“Can we, like,” Tyson starts, and then kind of grimaces. “Colin, can we have a minute?”

“Of course,” Colin says immediately, pulling earbuds out of a pocket as he leaves the room. Colin’s, like, a really decent dude. There are way worse people for Tyson to be bonded to. 

Nate’s about to say something to that effect when Tyson blurts, “Nothing’s going to happen.”

Nate blinks. Tyson’s all red and his eyes are darting all over like he wants to look at Nate but can’t. 

“I thought you wanted to not,” Nate says, “with the talking.”

“Nate,” Tyson says, a gust of breath, and Nate really fucking wants to hold his boyfriend, so that’s what he does. Tyson clings to him just as hard, which isn’t a relief because Nate wasn’t expecting him not to, but it’s- it’s good. It’s really good. 

“Dumbass,” he says, mostly into Tyson’s hair. “Of course nothing’s going to happen.” 

It’s easy to sound sure with Tyson wrapped around him, melting the last of the lingering numbness. It’s easy to say, “I love you,” and exhale when Tyson rubs his face over Nate’s collarbone and says, “I love you, too.”

~

Nate falls asleep a lot easier than he was expecting, his brain only throwing up a handful of nightmare scenarios before receding into blissful silence. It’s a little weird without Tyson next to him, but only really when he wakes up alone with no one grumbling about morning breath and kissing the fuck out of him anyway. His brain very helpfully provides a mental image with Colin replacing Nate in the starring role. His brain's a dick. 

It's not, like. He's not jealous. He doesn't want to have a soulbond, he just maybe, kind of, really intensely wishes they weren't a thing. Which is a totally reasonable feeling for Nate to feel. Nate is reacting reasonably to the situation. 

The guest bedroom door is open and the room is empty, which is kind of a relief, because his brain could do some serious damage with any more material of Tyson and Colin and beds. They're in the kitchen, and Nate squints but, nope, he doesn't see even a trace of food out. 

"Are you sick," he says seriously. 

"Shut the fuck up," Tyson says cheerfully. "I thought we could go somewhere for breakfast."

"Oh," Nate says. 

"We," Tyson says, with emphasis, waving a circle in the air that encompasses all three of them. 

"Oh," Nate says again, and looks at Colin. He's not sure which one of them would be third wheeling. Is it better if it's both of them? It's probably not better if it's both of them. 

Colin smiles back at him, which doesn't give Nate much to go on either way. Colin's a smiley guy. Definitely worse people for Tyson to be bonded to. 

"Sure," Nate says, and Tyson gets up, crosses the room, and kisses him. 

"Good morning," he says against Nate's mouth. Nate can feel the curve of his grin, can feel himself responding in kind. 

Colin's looking politely away when Tyson steps back, but after a second he looks back and smiles at them. 

"So that thing I need to say," Colin starts, and Tyson groans. 

"Do you really _need_ to, though," he says, and Colin's still smiling but there's a determined edge to it now. 

"I promise I'll make it quick," he says. "We'll definitely still have time for breakfast."

"Not gonna lie, 99% of why I wanted to go out was because I figured you wouldn't wanna do this in public."

Nate rolls his eyes, because he figured, but Colin laughs. 

"You're not wrong," he says. "What's the other 1%?"

"What, you never wake up with a craving for greasy diner food?" 

"Valid," Colin says, then without missing a beat continues, "So the thing I need to say."

It's like he could tell that Tyson was absolutely ready to derail sharply into food. Nate's kinda impressed. Soulmates can feel each other's feelings and all that stuff, but they aren’t psychic. 

"I've never ascribed to the idea that soulmates automatically trump any other relationship," Colin says, sounding earnest and genuinely sincere. "I have nothing but respect for your relationship, and I have no intention of doing anything to jeopardise it. I have zero expectations, of either of you. I’m grateful that you’re letting me stay with you while the bond settles, but I will respect any and all boundaries you have.”

There's a moment where none of them says anything, and then Tyson says, "Nice. You rehearse that, Willy?"

"I wrote down bullet points," Colin says, grinning. 

"Beautiful speech," Nate says, only half playing along with the joke. It was nice, hearing him say that stuff, like it was nice hearing Tyson promise last night that he wasn't going to cheat on Nate, like he would ever. 

"Yeah, yeah," Tyson says, "can we go now? Nate gets hangry if he isn't fed on time."

"Oh, sure," Colin says, " _Nate_ gets hangry," and Nate snickers. 

Tyson makes an outraged noise. "If you guys are just gonna gang up on me you can get your own fucking breakfast."

Colin looks at Nate. Nate shrugs. "Sounds good to me," Colin says. 

Tyson makes another sound of outrage, but it's pretty unconvincing even without the giant smile on his face. 

~

Breakfast is, like, fine. Nate's expecting to be shut out, not intentionally, he doesn't think either of them would do that, but it's only natural with a bond pulling the two of them together, away from him. He's steeling himself for it, telling himself he'll just have to deal with it and not be a dick about it, but it just keeps not happening, and slowly Nate stops waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

He’s still not, like, comfortable with the whole thing, especially when it gets late and they head up to bed and Tyson instinctively turns towards their room. Nate sucks in a breath, too loud. 

“Fuck this,” Tyson mutters, then looks determinedly at Nate. “We’ve got a big bed, right?”

“Right,” Nate says, and tries not to freeze up. This is fine. This is _good_ , even. His heart shouldn’t be pounding right now. “Plenty of space.”

Tyson nods, looking relieved. Colin coughs. “I’m happy to share,” he says, and so the three of them squeeze into Nate and Tyson’s bed. It is big, and it fits all three of them with room to spare, but Nate can’t help but press himself all up against Tyson, needing to feel him close, and he’s painfully aware of Colin on Tyson’s other side, the extra warmth and unfamiliar breathing. It’s still better than an empty bed, Tyson a hallway and a soulbond away from him. 

~

The bond starts to settle over the next few weeks, but Colin and Tyson manage about ten feet apart and basically kind of plateau there. It’s fine for now, with them barely into the preseason, but that’s not gonna be true for long. There’s only so long they can both be out with undisclosed upper body injuries before people start asking questions, and no one wants to explain to the press or anyone else what's actually happening. Nate tries not to worry about it. Management is doing enough of that for all of them, and Tyson looks exhausted every time he and Colin come out of meetings, and Nate absolutely refuses to add to that. 

It's good for the bond to be close; it's best for the bond to be in physical contact, so Tyson and Colin spend a lot of time cuddling. That means Nate, Tyson and Colin spend a lot of time cuddling, because one or both of them usually drag him into it, like they have some kind of agreement that Nate will not be left out. It makes Nate feel… well, a lot of things, but he kind of feels like he should tell them he'll be okay if he doesn't spend every second of every day, like, supervising them. He can give them space like he’s supposed to. 

They’re watching a movie, something Tyson picked before he fell asleep with his head in Nate’s lap and his feet in Colin’s, when Nate finally manages to get it out. 

“It’s nice of you guys to keep including me,” he says, keeping his gaze fixed on the TV. “But I’m just getting in the way.” He takes a deep breath. “I can give you space.”

“Nate,” Colin says, exasperated. “None of us want that.”

Nate tries not to grimace. “You should. What if I’m interfering with the bond? What if-” 

“You’re not,” Colin says evenly, “but even if you were, Tyson would still want you around all of the time, and so would I. It wouldn’t feel right without you.” He smiles, wry. “If anyone’s in the way, it’s me.”

“No, you’re not,” Nate says, and is surprised to find he means it. Colin’s slot right into their routine, carpooling to the rink and walking the dogs and trading off making dinner for each other, and Nate can’t really imagine it without Colin there any more. 

Colin just fits, with them, in a way that’s easy, natural, and maybe that should grate, given the circumstances, but it didn’t just _happen_. Colin made them have a long, excruciating conversation about boundaries, and expectations, and what they needed for this fragile thing to work out. Nate wanted to die the entire time it was happening, but when it was over he felt washed clean, somehow, could breathe a little easier. Definitely, _definitely_ worse people for Tyson to be bonded to. 

“Oh, I definitely am,” says Colin, now, with a wicked smile. “I don’t know about you, but Tyson is very, uh. _Frustrated_.”

Nate feels himself go red. “Uh,” he says, and Colin’s smile softens. 

“He’s, like, so in love with you,” he says. “It leaks out of him all the time.”

Nate swallows. His heart feels too big for his chest, warming him all over. “I don’t need a soulbond to tell me that, thanks,” he says, and Colin laughs loud enough that Tyson startles awake. 

“Wha’,” he mumbles, rolling over to press his face into Nate’s belly. “What’s happening.”

“Colin was offering to clear out so we could fuck,” Nate says, and Colin laughs even harder. He has a good laugh, a full body thing that lights up his whole face, and Nate finds himself smiling. 

“Cheers, Willy,” Tyson says, patting vaguely at Colin’s thigh. “Whose turn is it to make dinner?”

**Author's Note:**

> colin wilson is a descriptivist and it's important to me that you know this

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] let heart hold true](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910465) by [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/pseuds/eafay70)




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